


Pressing The Flesh

by mlle_imandeus



Series: Fuckentine Chronicles : Sexy Sweetheart Sundays [3]
Category: Sam & Cat (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, G-spot Massage, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 15:57:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2074218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mlle_imandeus/pseuds/mlle_imandeus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cat feels giving Sam regular massage would be fun. And it becomes a Sweetheart Sunday Tradition. This is love and homelife in a Puckentine home. Sweetheart Sundays at the best. Sam and Cats day off to be alone. Femslash lezzie yumyum of the highest order.<br/>Chapter One is 3rd in my Puckentine Chronicles</p><p>Chapter Two is 6th</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I gave Cat pretty much my exact story of how I got into massage. What I learned and where I learned it. These stories never go how I expect: they don't start out how I expect, the middle is never how I planned the middle, and they never end where I was thinking they'd end. So I'm just as surprised as you folks but you are the best fandom in the world and I thank my lucky stars I found other people who ship the cutest couple I ever saw. Hope you like it.

Sam bawled like an adorable little moose when I started to rub her shoulders. "Don't start somethin you can't finish, Little Red." She said, smiling

"Oh, I can finish, Momma. I think everybody in the place is gonna be finishin just fine." I shot right back. I was fine to start over her shirt. Since she was wearing a t shirt that had started out having the sleeves removed and the armholes had migrated down to basically being bare panels, and since this was our Sunday alone day; she wasn't wearing anything underneath it. I could do most of her top half without taking it off. But I wouldn't. Even if she balked I was going to make her insist pretty hard. I had been wanting to get my hands on her thick ropy muscles for a long time. Make massages a regular thing. There was a time when I thought it might be my opening for yummy girl time. I mean who doesn't want a good backrub?

Sam Puckell apparently.

She'd let me rub her shoulders a bit in the beginning. Sometimes she'd even ask for it. Which is tell me to do it where her voice goes up a bit at the end in the way I call the 'puckle please'. She'll never actually say please, but sometimes she'll tell me nice. Which I like. However, after a few minutes she'd say thanks and move away and if I offered to do it more she'd tell me 'that was alright I didn't need to'.

Once she let me be hers she was a little more relaxed about the touching which is why I wanted to use this weekend to make it a regular part of us. I loved to touch, my hands were practically magnets whenever she was around. Just pulled toward her. So I had to get her over her weird touch thing.

If I got my wish and me massaging Sam became a regular thing, I wanted it to be a mix of therapeutic muscle work and yummy stroking. Maybe licks and nibbles. But at this point I didn't want the two confused. And I was already only wearing tanga shorts. Which were cut like boyshorts but were covered in ruffles in a rainbow of shades of pink. So I would have to be extra careful to keep the massaging massagey.

My love of massage started with my Uncle Jesse. He wasn't an uncle I saw a lot so it was special just to see him. and he always wanted me to rub his shoulders. Plus he always made such a big deal about what a good job I did that I thought I had some natural massage gift. So I was always offering to rub everyone's shoulders. No one else made a big deal about it. But nobody complained and hey, free shoulder rub. Although I was just a kid, so I must have had some natural talent for it.

I did honestly love it so when I was a teenager I started taking classes on the weekends at the School of Chinese Medicine in downtown. As well as Swedish massage classes at the local massage college. I never thought of doing it for a job. But I convinced my parents that it was a real career choice I could fall back on, if I didn't make it as a performer. I brought my dad in for an interview with the director of the massage college where I studied Swedish massage and the director showed him that with the hours I had already done, combined with the seminars I had done learning lomi lomi massage when we went to Hawaii on vacation. Plus that day my mother and I took a bus out to spend the day with a Fijian massage master on different vacation in Fiji. I already had the hours required to be a physical therapist's assistant in a hospital. A job that paid the same as an LVN. Not a career I would actually pursue but it got my dad off my back in all likelihood forever. Especially with my brother busy being who he was.

It's funny, I have studied styles from all over the world. Every one was beautiful and every one of them taught me something different and amazing. But the greatest lesson. What I believe makes my massage different; is a lesson I learned from a man who was almost certainly a pervo. In a class I should have never been allowed into and I very quickly left.

It was a Tantric Massage class. Tantric Massage is a real thing. Just like Tantric Yoga is a real thing. And hardest for an outsider to understand is an advanced practitioner teaching an advanced student, can be doing all those sexy things the charlatans do and be really teaching a real class. They don't have to be, advanced tantra is every bit as much about a thousand other things, but sex is part of it. Because sex is part of the universe. Just like a beginning teacher teaching a beginning class can talk about those same sexy things. and be entirely legitimate. Although equally speaking only of a fragment of the whole. You know you are in a grey area if you are naked in a beginning class. But the field is so maddeningly large if you are only touching yourself or a trusted partner you still  _might_  be fine. You can only be absolutely certain you are in a sham class if the instructor is touching you or another student is touching you at the instructor's instruction.

Anyway my great revelation out of the mouths of creepers: So this was last summer, a month or two before I met Sam. So I am not 18 yet, as I am still not. I am in Tantric Massage which I can go into what it actually is but prefer to define as the instructor did as: Sex Energy Massage or Sensual Energy Massage is better. Keeping in mind he said Tantra can best be described to Americans as Indian Sex Magic . Keeping equally in mind that if I said that it was somewhere between Taoism and the massage, energy healing, counseling, practised in India before the rise of Vedanta I would be drastically over simplifying but much closer to the truth.

This is how the Downtown School of Chinese Medicine worked. Because of The laws of alternative medicine were between ridiculous and non-existant and the chinese medicine school was owned and operated by the same two chinese brothers who opened it in 1977 and ran it as they saw fit. the teachers , sometimes spoke nearly no english, sometimes were brilliant but smelly hippies who lived in VW vans and showered at the school when they showered at all, and sometimes they were consumate professionals. It was a mixed bag.

I do not know what qualifications if any this guy had. I am ninety percent sure people got naked after I left. I felt something a little off from the first moment. But I thought I'd stick it out.

The man passed around the softest little stuffed bunny I have ever felt in my life, I don't know what it was made of, microfiber maybe. But it was crazy soft. After we had all patted the bunny he said, "Did anyone try to touch the bunny so the bunny felt good?... Of course not it was a stuffed bunny, couldn't feel anything. But that is what is called a taking touch. you were feeling the bunny. You were not trying to make the bunny feel. And a taking touch will always feel different than a giving touch. Both to the toucher and to the touchee. Now that is what you must learn when you are touching your lover. Yes you are giving your lover a massage. But you must always touch your lover with a taking touch. You must always feel your lover. They will feel the difference and it will convey your wanting to them. When you touch your lover with a giving touch, you are pushing them away at the energy level. You are pushing your energy against their energy. Instead your energy must yield. You do not want to pull their energy out and take their energy away. You just want to pull it toward you while keeping it within their body. It is like a wave in the ocean. The actual water is moving very little. It is the energy of the water that is moving. Just like sound waves through air. the air moves very little, just enough to bump the next air particle and carry the energy wave. Now if Cat would like to come up and lay on the table. We will all gather around and practice touching her with a taking touch."

I was out of there like a shot. I was polite and all, but seriously. First he was talking about lovers not clients. Then he wants to practice on me? Fully clothed or not, a room full of people are not practicing their 'taking touch' on me. It absolutely did make sense though. And there is no question I have worked it into my massaging. This is not the time to get into the energy practices of therapeutic massage. But I will say that on that level there are plenty of uses for the knowledge of the difference between a taking and a giving touch and ever since that class I have often wondered why it is not taught more widely in the field.

I could not help but touch Sam with a taking touch. I wanted to constantly be touching her. It was like my drug. And I couldn't give myself to her anymore. I belonged to her. I had given myself to her completely before we had even put our love into words.

So I knelt behind Sam, because she was leaning forward on the couch and I dug the heels of my hands into her back feeling her shirt and her back under that. Feeling muscle and bone. She was so strong, strong like a boy but better. I didn't want to think better, but I did. She was better than a boy. She was better than Goomer. She was better than Beck and Andre. I didn't just like her better, she was better than them. And it made me feel good to admit it to myself. And it made me feel bad that I thought that even in my head. I said to myself that everybody's equal. But then I said. Not her. Not Sam. And I kissed her neck Because I couldn't help myself, even though this was supposed to be just a massage. Because I can never help myself. But it's easy to forgive myself, because it's understandable, cause she's so pretty and kissable. I said, "Sam, sing me a song."

And she doesn't want to, but I ask real nice, cause she sings so pretty. Then she does. But I'm not gonna say what song it was, cause it was for me.

Then I put my arms around her and I hold her so close so I know she can feel my breasts in her back. I know I gotta hold her real close for that, and I say, "I'm not ever gonna stop you know."

"Not ever gonna stop what?" She asks real quiet, like a whisper but not so harsh.

"Not ever gonna stop any of this. Not ever gonna stop lovin you, or touching you or rubbing your back. Not ever gonna stop doing little things for you. It's never going to be enough to show you how much I love you. Because there isn't an enough. There isn't a number big enough, and there isn't a measure big enough. There aren't enough hours left in time. There aren't enough hugs in the universe. There aren't enough enoughs; because you will always be more than enough for me. You will always be the most. The most beautiful. The most perfect. The most wonderful. You are my sun, my moon, my stars, my earth and my planets. You are my everything. Plus one"

She looked at me and smiled. "My everything plus one."

Then I stood up and turned her around so she was on her knees, leaning on her arms crossed on the back of the couch. Her adorable perfect bottom in the air, her wonderful dreamy back tabled out for me to rub. I stood on the other side of the couch so I could lean over it toward her bottom and rub down, swiveling with my hips as I rubbed. Down and swivel and up and swivel. Rub down one side on the down-swivel then up that side then down the other side on that side's swivel. Then up on that side's up-swivel.

Then locking the heels of my hands into her hip-joints and swiveling her hips with me to loosen the muscles. Then I moved up to massage her shoulder blades with my fingertips pulling the big open sides up far enough easily to get at her smooth skin.

Moving back up I started at the top of her spine moving my thumbs down along the sides, pressing deep and moving so slowly as I worked my way vertebrae by vertebrae down her spine, until I reached her tailbone. Then I came back up doing the same thing again this time I took each side in turn and starting at her spine I dragged my fingers out across the back of her rib-cage. Then another trip down her back. I spent a good four or five minutes working her hips and lower back before moving quickly over her shorts clad bottom and thighs. Able to actually start the massage on her calves.

Just to drop some knowledge in a one sentence definition: the difference between a backrub and a massage was you can't do a massage with clothes on. Not on any part of the body your massaging. I mean if I was talking to the folks at the school of Chinese medicine, then yes, medicinal massage. If I was massaging in a hospital, even a western hospital I would massage with clothes on. But there is certainly no exchange of energy, no taking or giving touch. Obviously what I was doing on Sam's bum and thighs wasn't a backrub.

Which is where, the bastard child 'sports massage' comes in. Not to say I'm knocking it, it is a real and useful therapy that has it's place, but it is neither one thing nor another. What is called in the trade 'physio' massage is not quite medical not quite therapeutic. I know medical and therapeutic mean very similar things, but if you were talking to a massage person you would be more likely to say between Swedish and Chinese which would mean even less to an outsider.

I grabbed a quick warm wet washcloth for her feet and grabbed a tub of coconut oil at the same time from the kitchen. I liked coconut oil because it could be used everywhere around the house from frying to an intimate lubricant. Meaning it was mild enough to put anywhere on the body with little chance of reaction. It smelled nice, it was light for massage, and it was solid at less than seventy five degrees. So if it fell over, it wouldn't spill. Even in California,for at least half the year it was as thick as egg white, minimum, so a spill could be caught faster than almond oil or sesame. My second choices if someone didn't like coconut. And if a client was providing their own, I always had to tell them not to get the toasted sesame oil, which was actually easier to find than raw but couldn't be used. We weren't makin wontons.

I massaged Momma's pretty pink piggies then moved onto her insteps and heels, her ankles and up her calves. I made sure to use my thumbs a lot and really get in there." Sam's feet weren't too ticklish, but better safe than sorry and most everyone liked their feet worked hard even if they didn't usually like deep tissue work, which Sam did. As long as it was over before she got bored.

A few minutes later, as I finished up her calves, I was faced with a dilemma. Sam would not have more than a few minutes in this position before her knees started to hurt. Now I knew as soon as I kissed her neck and asked her so sweetly to sing to me that I wasn't going to be able to keep this just a massage. So do I take her in the bedroom get her skinned down and move onto the thighs, letting the massage continue where it might? Or do I deprive her of her britches skip her thighs for another time and cut in line to the buffet as it were.

Obviously, I'd already made the decision when I got her up on her knees rather than taking her directly to the bedroom when I stood up. I put my face in her crotch and sniffed her like a dog as I reached around her to untie the drawstring on her shorts. I was still surprised by how much I loved to do that. I don't even think it was dogginess per se, but animalness. I absolutely found reasons to drop things and bend over or crawl over and grab something and coincidentally run into her in our everyday life. She knew what I was doing, but no one around us did.

"Girl," Sam started, in her play warning voice. She liked me to be the only one naked in the main part of the apartment.

"I'm leaving your shirt on." I said.

"Okay." And she dropped it. She trusted me, and she was curious.

I scooped some coconut oil on my fingertips and rubbed it between my hands. For all it's solidness. It melts instantly on skin and warms quickly, another plus. Starting at her lower back, I rubbed my lucky hands all over her beautiful heart shaped bottom.

My lucky hands and I did some full long strokes: along her thighs, up over her bottom, down past her wonderful tempting love den. It was actually the fact that she pulled me so strongly that made me skate past. I mean I did show attention in passing. It would never due for her to feel neglected or even worse rejected. But I knew my plans for a few minutes from now. I had to let the rest of my lady's whole undercarriage know that her entire body was precious to me. Ever square sugar cube of an inch on Sam was my dream. Just as much any other inch was. The fact that certain areas were more magnetized to my tongue and fingers just like the earths poles did not mean that her hipbone or the fold behind her knee were any less precious to me then that batter bowl of hers that I wanted to lick clean. So I kissed that hipbone. I walked my fingertips lovingly showing my personal attention to that perfect knee line. And rising and massaging her thighs, as I knew I would, just not as thoroughly as during a regular non-sexy massage when I wasn't distracted. Distracted by a treasure box on offer for my questing fingers to explore. Because each part, each pore, each hair of my love is precious but only one part is her pussy, and I like to think I was forgiven by the other parts my weaknesses.

Finally I stood to the side of her with the heel of one hand grinding deep into the base of her spine to center her root chakra as my other hand guided my middle finger home, into her warm wetness. My index and ring fingers slipped easily along in the natural grooves next to her lips. Then as I slid my finger out I pressed her lips between my fingers as they moved back and my middle finger as it came out. If this were pure sex play there is no way I would be moving so fast this early over such delicate tissues. But I knew my hand was lubed with coconut oil from the massage and while I was squeezing and playing with my lady love I was not applying enough pressure for real friction given the added slipperiness of the oil and Sam's own excitement.

Then I sat on the floor behind her and settled in. Rubbing the roof of her which would be the floor of her in her current position. This was good so I could get strong pressure. Always touching with a taking touch, feeling my true love. Who I really did motherfucking worship. (And I used neither of those words lightly.) I had two fingers of my right hand inside her. My strongest and most talented fingers of my strongest and most talented hand. I was just up behind her pelvic bone where I could feel the tissue honeycomb. This meant I was stimulating her gspot. At the moment I was stimulating it so nicely and lovingly. Because I was nice and I loved her. It was simple really. But also because these sorts of games I was playing you needed to warm up to. I was rubbing firmly all around the barrel of my entire beautiful girl's entire beautiful honeypot. When I worked on the top of it I had my other hand down by her clitty button. Well on it some. On it some and by it some, cause if I was right on it the whole time that got to be too much of a good thing. When I came around the left side I was massaging that inner thigh with my hand that not busy inside her. When I was at the back I used my outside hand to gently stretch and play with her lips. Then there was the other side with it's inner thigh to massage.

I'm not a poet or a great raconteur to tell the story and put you in my shoes, so it seems like this was all terribly quick. But you must understand I was face to flesh with a lover's banquet. I was touching and coaxing caws and moans from someone who's every sound was like new life to me. I was not rushing this. Sam had shifted her weight. Her arms were no longer crossed over the back of the couch. Here forearms were now vertical and parallel in front of her and she rested on them. Her back was relaxed her bottom was pushed out and presented to me. Her sweetheart's gift gaping. Her lips, normally pink were puffy and purpling, inside she was juicy as a split fruit.

My last hand movement before I prepared to chase her orgasm down hard literally slopped juice on me and it was so sexy my tummy spasmed. That was when I looked at my dainty little mouse hands shrugged and decided to go three fingers. But not wanting Momma to notice til she was hit hard by the first wave I decided to start with my outside hand on her button first. Go really slow and rather than one at a time do all three at once so in her super slippy state even though it would be a suprise. She'd be less likely to tell if it's two or three.

We'd done three before. It's just I preferred being asked. But massage was my thing better or worse and thinking that actually made a lot of difference. G spot games were supposed to be intense. Intense and messy. If how badly I wanted to lick that sticky sweet driplet that kept catching my eye meant anything I had led this exactly where I was wanting it to go.

So I moved my outside hand down to her pink pearl and started rubbing around it, my fingertips were plenty slippery enough to slide around and over it. Teasing it. Then I began to rub it directly as I brought my recently inside hand to the entrance where it wanted to be inside again. Playing a little across her bottom on the way. Not with, just across.

She was quite slippery enough to take even three fingers without trouble, but she felt it. Not the number, but the sudden thickness. The fullness.

"Oh Cat," She said. Possibly the first words she'd spoken since we started.

"Do you like it?" I asked.

"I do." She said in a very matter of fact, very deep; for her even, very serious, very sensual voice. That I liked and wanted to make her use again sometime. I had used my Spot knowledge with her before. But this was an actual massage I'd been trained for, even if a sensual one. This was something a doctor could do for a patient. I could make someone have an orgasm this way in both the 'poor sally can't have one let me help way'. And in the 'sally is my sex prisoner' way. Make. Men can be milked of orgasms like cows through prostate massage. Which is their gspot.

But this wasn't making. This was loveplay and I would never make Sam pick up a sock. Not when I could pick it up for her.

But be her own private driver on her own private sex roller coaster. I would love to do that for Sam. That would make me happy as a banana bean.

I began to rub and press on her G spot and her entire urethral sponge. I could already feel it starting to swell. While working her button with my other hand, I could play directly on it now because the intense direct sensation was already coming from other places.

Sam moaned deep and gutteral back in her throat and collapsed against the couch. But of course there wasn't any place for her to go, so she just settled onto her ams maybe an inch and dropped another inch closer to me, no complaints there. I could feel all her walls expand and thicken as I pressed and pulled and played her. Inside and out. Spot and button.

This isn't a class and I don't know coy sexy names for what I was doing. It was sexy to me because of who I was doing it to. It was sexy to me because of what I was feeling. I have never been anyone else. I don't know if muscles and skin turns other people on. But I don't go to Hogwarts. At Hollywood Arts I don't just take preforming classes. I have to take real High School too and I ace Bio Human Phys for the same reason I'm a qualified physical therapist's assistant as a senior. Because my love for massage equals a love for the body equals it's all neat to me.

Mmmm. Sam bucked back, grinding her bottom into my face. Her tailbone hitting just under my nose, then her bottomhole, across her funbridge, and along my workspace where I'm trying to drive her over the edge. Exactly what I expected her to do and why I was leaning over. Well that and things were getting messy. I hadn't given into my desire to taste yet, but I was enjoying looking and smelling. It was called the urethral sponge because it used the urethra as an exit. It wasn't pee. Which was a rookie mistake because some women could orgasm enough to look like it, in a burst like that. Sam was more a continuous flow with occasional surges. Which being her style, was naturally my favorite.

Even the stroke she'd just whitewashed across my face couldn't really be called a taste. Nope, I insisted on calling it a sample. Like they gave out in stores. Because I was going to finish in here. Then take her in our room and I was going to clean her up. Without a towel. If it took an hour.

Which meant this was the only massage happening today. That meant I was doing a real massage. A sexual massage, by gum, but a real one. So I stopped playing. And my movements became deliberate. They were small adjustments. Sam wouldn't have seen them if she was in any condition to look which she wasn't. But I knew.

My fingertips were suddenly tracing deliberate concentric circles focused on her clitoris. My three fingers inside her were now not only massaging her, they were also moving in a scooping, pulling, motion over her; drawing her to release. She was not only beyond words she was beyond her normal moans "Ohhnmm," she lowed. But not in a bad way. She had the collar of her shirt between her teeth like a horse with a bit. She might very well rip or ruin it when this final wave crested. She might feel drugged, might feel disoriented or confused. She might need my help to bed. I was already pouting inside that some of the yumminess I was earning was destined for the mop or a wet towel when I got her tucked in bed in a bit. She would almost assuredly have to have help getting to bed.

But she was going to feel the bone deep looseness only found from regular massage or an earth shattering orgasm. This wasn't where I thought the day was going. With Sam I'd learned it was better to smile and enjoy the trip. Even though I was riding hard I didn't feel I'd begun to approach the line of 'making' her cum with a capital 'M'; though making with a small 'm' was about to become floodingly obvious. Because I was just guiding, even with what I was doing. In my hands this could have taken less than five minitus and included orgasms so intense they were painful.

I could feel Sam clench down as she started to have her last big one and I got even wetter myself just at the sound of her moaning and screaming as she pressed her face into her arms and into the back of the couch in turn. and I could feel the rush as she came onto my hand her own lovely slip and the extra spot nectar. and then she just collapsed panting.

I let her stay until she started sliding bonelessly off the couch, then I helped her stand. "Shall we go in the bedroom my love?" I asked.

She looked around, groggy, "Narfle?" She said.

"Yes," I agreed, "In the bedroom, the pretty narfle," And she seemed to accept that.

We went into the bedroom.

I kept a portable massage table under my bed that I could take wherever I needed it. In reality since I had separate massage sheets and they had to be washed special to get the oil out and always ended up smelling massagey. It was just easier to triple up otherwise I would never have enough for a load and if I was going to triple up anyway I might as well just throw a canvas down on Sam's bed with the sheets on top, it was faster than getting the table out.

After today though, if I wanted to do it right I needed to start getting the table out. Nothing more strenuous was happening today, though. Sam was obviously spent and I felt like I'd been diggin ditches.

When I took Sam's shirt with the chewed on collar off and laid her in bed I thought about how I thought of undressing her as my reward for massaging her usually, but it felt like being allowed to give her a massage was a reward too. Everything with Sam felt like that. It was like an unending stream of prizes and rewards. Which is why it was so important to me to please her. I knew how lucky I was and I knew that there was no way I could earn it. But I wanted to show her I knew. Not to mention everything turned me on with Sam. Even normal daily routine turned me on so much with Sam in the room.

The reason I wore my tanga shorts today is because after our first 'Sweetheart Sunday' we sorted out Sam made me a little too squishy in my puckell patch (I told you it was hers). And those cute little 'accident' wet spots I was leaving on her lap every time I shifted kept getting bigger. So we decided I needed to wear some sort of bottoms. Sam joked about putting me in one of the bigger diapers that a kid had left behind. And while that gave me zings that almost shot my clitty button up into my tummy button we decided that was waaaaayyy too kinky for us.

We had discussed the idea of folding one of the cloth diapers into a little square and having me be naked and just have that to sit on. Because it would be nicer and softer to sit on than a towel but would be like a little game because I would have to remember to take it with me every time I moved or I'd leave a spot. That was one thing Sam and I were learning, these little embarrassments could be a special game between us. Like leaving love spots on her leg, or how it thrilled and scandalized me for a moment that she would threaten to put me in a diaper.

Because I knew I'd let her do it. That one didn't turn me on at all by itself but, the power she had over me… woo. There were a lot of people who I would passively let push me around. But Sam is the only one who if she did that to me: I would stand there. Naked, except for that humiliating diaper. Crying with shame. And I would still bat my eyes at her and look at her flirtatiously and say in that way I know she can't resist. "How can you be so mean to me?" And yes it's a fact that is the fastest way to get me naked again. But I would not even be thinking about that at the time.

And the idea of having a little juicepad that I have to remember to take around with me, as well as be naked for Sam to look at all day, and half-consciously stroke and pet as we just hang around the house doing our thing. That sort of game sounds like heaven. Because I know Sam will try to distract me, so I forget. And then I know she will turn me on even more so. Most of all I know she will make a big deal over what a messy girl I am to leave such a big wet spot on her lap or the couch or wherever I left it. But I equally know that if it is the couch or anyplace else I might worry about, the spot will 'magically' be gone tomorrow. Because Sam talks a big game but she would never want me to really worry, and doubly she would never want the real world to interfere with our play time. So she would always make sure any evidence of one never crossed over into the other. One of the billions of things I loved about her.

But here in our room where we would be unlikely to leave for hours and very possibly not before a long and playful shower, my puckell patch could get as slippy as it wished, so as soon as Sam was in the bed my tanga shorts were in the hamper. And if I heard them make a small damp sound when they hit from all they absorbed when I was massaging Sam, that's my personal private business.

Sam was in complete command of her senses when I crawled into bed. "Great chiz kid, what did you do to me?"

"I told you massage was good for what ails you." I said. "That's why I want us to start doing it at least every week."

"That wasn't massage, that was Niagra Falls in a Puckett." She said pulling me close, "I couldn't handle that every week."

"No not that every week. No next time we do that it is going to be with you sitting on my face, so I can lick you and I want all that on my face; I want you to get me so messy. I want it in my hair and my…" I stopped and could feel myself blushing. A small strand of my hair had gotten stuck together with Sammy-lamb's slippy goodness and in the shower I had a quick fantasy rub. It wasn't even batey it was just a quick yum-humm. But I guess, seeing and smelling and feeling her had brought it back. And I mustn't forget the sample.

Suddenly and suprisingly, to be honest; my whole brain was bubbling in a soup of scrumptious Sam-need. There might be some wasted on Sam's shorts on the living room floor (where I tucked them so it wouldn't get on the carpet). But now that I'd had my energy rejuvenating cuddle I was certain the honeypot had nectar sufficient to satisfy even a very hungry little Kittykid like myself.

"Sam, if I can be straight with you, as I know I always can," I began.

"A rather flexible interpretation of straight but I take your meaning." Momma replied.

"We both had fun on the couch and I thought we were gonna cuddle and coo like pigeons in a cote."

"A what then?"

"A cote. A cote, Sam. it's what a person keeps pigeons in. Like a rabbit hutch, a chicken coop, a pigeon cote." I said.

"Well if you say so,"

"I do, Sam, Because that isn't the important part in the first place. The important part is I thought we were done loving for the present, but it turns out, if it's okay, I'm not. I'm really really not. Like I need it, not. Like I really really need it right now not.?"

"Oh kid, I'd love to but I'm exhausted. If you wanna kneel up here over me. I guess it'd be fun." Sam said.

Oooh tingles. "That would be fun Sam." I replied. "But not what I really need right now." I pointed playfully down.

"Oh Kitty-sweet," And she sounded so kind in that second, so much like she understood I didn't say need when I meant want. She had so much love in her eyes. And I had so much love for her. I actually misted up a bit. Actually welled up that my girlfriend understood how much I loved to lick her out. (Alright that just trivialized it and you and I both know it. I only did it because I was uncomfortable at the rawness of my own emotions)

And my special wonderful lover just pulled the sheet back, rolling flat, opened her legs to me and said "Come to me love, but be gentle, she's just run a marathon."

Thing is, once I got in there, she looked happy as a clam. Tee hee. Clam. Next to childbirth what I'd done for her was a spa weekend. I'd honestly just given her a good workout. now she'd had a 15 minute cooldown. If anything I knew about the body was right, she was fine and happy and ready to play. Or kiss as the case was soon to be.

She was a messy girl, but not even as much as you might think because of something doctors have delicately named the upsuck factor. Where everything is sucked back through the cervix as the whole business relaxes after orgasm. But Kitty would still get her cream, just less. I just looked at her up close for a moment. Happy little love orchid, a bit wilted, but perking up again as I could feel her blush. I was, of course looking with my lips less than half an inch from her and my sensitive skin could feel that little bit warmer she got. I'm sure there was a faint color change but it was late afternoon and we hadn't any lights on so the bit of sunlight we had wasn't enough. I wanted that. I wanted my other senses pulling me to her.

I kissed her once. The first kiss was almost always a quick peck. a 'Hello, I'm here to make out with you today, my sweet, won't that be lovely?"

Then I moved in, sucking her puffy pretty lips into my mouth. Licking them and getting them all spitty. (Tee hee, it turned me on a little just writing that. lalala) I pulled my mouth back and I pulled back on them a bit. Sam inhaled sharply, but there was no question she meant it to be good. And I moaned low in the back of my throat. I didn't even mean to, my body just responded to her call. I loved to make her happy and to coax these feelings from her.

I released her sweet flesh and opened it with my fingers so I might make my way inside. I want to talk about how wet she was and how messy. But I already don't know if I've said too much about what a messy dirty girl she made me want to be. These confessions are new to me and I am a lady. If it was Sam asking I would tell her everything I felt. Everything I could and I would try to tell her more because she asked and I wanted so much to please her. But this is what? A diary? A confession? Me telling my fantasies to the wind? I've told you once I'm a slut, where she's concerned. I've told you it scares me how dirty I want to be, how dirty I want to talk? I told you I let her lick my bottomhole and I liked it? Did I tell you I wanted her to bend me over the table and finger it and stretch it and lick it 'til it gaped and I collapsed on the table; spent and sweaty and quivering like a newborn foal? No, of course not! Because I don't know what we're doing here we two, you and I. I did tell you I wanted her to cum on my face next time I made her super messy like this. I did do that. That means something. That I trust you, that we're friends. Maybe I just don't want to scare you. I told you of the diaper. The dreaded diaper. We're not speaking of that again. Not Sam and I; and not you and I either. But I did tell you. I even told you it gave me the mega shame tingles. So don't act like I'm holding back.

She was so hot and sweet. Wet and messy. Her cum was thick and creamy. Her spot juice, clear and sticky. And I wanted them both. I'd say anyone who can lick a girl, can understand how they used to put meat in desserts in olden days.

Not to be gross. Especially not while trying to be horny. But if you can tongue the honey pie you are familiar with the joy of something that tastes both sweet and meaty. We don't do this in todays recipes and culture is culture I'm just saying I can see it.

Because Sam always does, always. But spot juice has even more of a syrup, traditional sweetness than normal girl. So I had a unique opportunity. Where she had cum a lot; so there was a lot of her normal creamy deliciousness, but there was also a lot of sticky extra.

By a lot I don't mean a literal lot obviously. A lot comparitively.

Sigh. Don't do this to me, I am busy gaying. I pressed the tip of my nose against her nubbin as I pushed my face in deeper, licking. Kissing. Loving the one who was born to love me. I turned my head to the side a touch, as if I was kissing her other lips and continued to kiss her. Home. Life. Love. All these and more she meant to me. She was so delicious and so amazing. So endlessly surprising and relentlessly fun. I kissed her, licking up and swallowing what I found but mostly exploring someone who was eternally new to me.

I brought my hands up. Spreading her lips so I could sprinkle little loving kisses on her perky pretty poppet, then I moved in close sucking on her clit licking and sucking it pulling back and blowing on it lightly. Honestly we would be getting to the full on clitty tonguejob later, just like I wouldn't sleep until my heartmate had cum at least three more times. But it wasn't even dinner yet and this was about cleaning up not startin over, so I started to wind it back.

The only reason I'd done it at all was while I was certain Sam would make sure I got mine. There were different kinds of releases. I had gotten so worked up workin on Sam and lookin at Sam and focused on Sam that I'd given myself a Sam-on. If I hadn't been allowed to lick her out, to taste her, to smell her, to have the entire sam experience. I would have gone crazy. Crying like a little lost girl would have been the least of it. Because I had built her up inside me so much. And some clit time was just part of that. Now except for the cuddles that I was just about to collect, I'm cool. If we move on to me now or in five hours I don't care because, I didn't get all worked up about me.

I crawled up into Sam's arms, and said, "If I cry now, why will you think it is?"

"Cause you just love me so much."

"That'd be why. But I can't do it every time." I said.

"You don't."

But suddenly I didn't feel like I needed to. Instead what I needed to do was kiss her hungrily like I was drowning and her lips were my air. she was so perfect. And so beautiful. and so pretty, and so splendid, and so superb, and so wonderful, and so gorgeous, and so dazzling, and so alluring, and soooo comely. Because all of those words mean different things but Sam is all of them and I am hers. I am the luckiest girl in the world. She is my everything plus one.

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one actually takes place after the events of Call Me Momma and NaughtyATM. 
> 
> It is actually 6th in my Fuckentine Chronicles

It was Sweetheart's Sunday! Yay! And I had been planning a special brunch for Sam for a week. And some special before brunch activities.  
Not that, dirty mind. Her massage!  
And before that, I needed some Sammy love. So I suppose it was what you thought.  
I slipped out of bed and got her a banana and a big glass of orange juice.  
Since she'd be eating later this morning I knew she'd need a snack to keep her energy up.

(Just so you know, I'm not going to fuck her with the banana. Stop trying to guess what I'm going to do. Sam is quite satisfied thank you.)

I returned to the room with the snack for my lady.  
That she was going to eat. Immediately. Without doing anything else with first.  
I put it on the little table next to my bed. Last night was my turn so we were in my bed.

Seeing her there made me think again that I would be happy if I never slept another night alone in my life. I thought about our dream house in Oxnard and how our bed would be pink and grey. I thought about how pink and grey were actually quite nice together. Classy and Oxnardian.   
I cuddled in with Sammy-lamb and kissed her warm lips. Then I kissed her cheeks. When I got to her eyelids, her eyes popped open.

"Princess," she said by way of greeting.

"Happy Sweetheart's Sunday, Sam!" I said, giving her a big kiss and a hug.

"So every single Sunday?" She asked.

"Maybe. Every single Sunday until you will hold my hand walking down the street or at the mall. And kiss me in public whenever I want." I said.

"I'll never kiss you in public 'whenever you want'." Sam said.

"Sweetheart Sunday forever!" I cheered and jumped on her.

I knew I would one day get her over kissing the same way I had gotten her over hugging.  
But I also knew I'd never really intended to renegotiate Sweetheart Sunday. Unless it was to add Moony-over-you Monday, Totally-in-love Tuesday, Why-don't-you-lick-me-already Wednesday, and the rest.

"Here, eat your banana and drink your juice." I said.

"Don't you have some bacon for that banana? You usually give me a good breakfast on Sundays. I need plenty of energy for all the looooovvee demands you are going to make on me." Sam said.

"Funny you should mention bacon. Our secret trip to Nona's supper club got me thinking.  
Since today is Sweetheart Sunday we can be a couple, as long as we don't do it near the house.  
I know it's normally naked love day. Or kittenplay day which is just naked love day in a different hat, or a pretty pink collar."  
Lost my train of thought for a second. But then I was back.  
"But today it could mean brunch plans at that new place Der Bacon Haus, that you wanted to try.  
21 different kinds of sausage. Eighteen different bacons. I know, should have been called Der Sausage Hut. Not my restaurant.  
It's in Reseda so we probably won't see anyone we know.  
We'll have them seat us in the back. Maybe I'll sit on your lap and feed you niblets.  
But since we aren't having brunch for three hours you need your vitamins for the morning  
so eat and drink your fruit in its many forms. In this case two." I said

"Three hours, why so long?" Sam complained.

"Well first we're gonna bang. Then we're gonna bone. Then a little licky licky quicky.  
We'll barely have time enough for a shower." I explained.

"Really and what, if I may ask, are we boning with? Since neither of us is packing any of the usual bonerables.  
You gettin your femur up there? Giving me some fibula action. Little fibula ribula?  
Yeah, that's all the bone stuff I got." Sam said.

"Okay, forget the boning. I don't think that was ever happening, for the exact reason you said."  
I cuddled up and looked into her eyes. "I would enjoy some morning loveplay with my girlfriend.  
Followed by her weekly massage, which will almost assuredly get intimate.  
And then a shower where we will be naked and wet. While we will have just made love followed by making love,  
I'm betting things will get spicy in the shower.  
If the restaurant required reservations I would have allowed four hours, to be safe."

"Well, we could skip the massage this week." Sam said.

"No, my love, we could not. I have been trying to make this happen, and it's happening.  
I want you to love being touched. By me at least.  
In the same way that there is no such thing as you touching me too much.  
I know why you hate being touched. It lets people behind your walls. But I am already there.  
I know why you don't like massage. It is either boring, or it makes you horny.  
I believe that I have a plan of strong deep muscle work that will not be boring,  
mixed with fun touch that will keep you aroused but not to a 'stop this I need to cum' level.  
I have let the last two massages turn into sexual with a therapeutic element.  
I just want to flip that back to therapeutic with a sexual element and we'll be sorted."

"Okay, Kitten." Sam said, reaching over me to take the banana and the juice.

"But I am going to have to insist on that 'licky licky, Momma gonna get sticky' part. That is non-negotiable."

"Never fear, my dear. We are going to be lesbianing quite actively in just a moment.  
Let me get some of that juice." I drank some of her orange juice.  
"Now you just finish it up, while I get started on your nipples."

I could never get enough of my dear sweet Sammy's playful pink nipples.  
Anymore than I could get enough of her pearly pink clitty button.  
There was no part of my lovergirl that I could ever get my fill of.

If there were, I probably would have to go live in a sack.

An old burlap sack, hanging on a wall. Because anyone who took so little pleasure in anything so delightful; that they could cease to discover new specialness with each moment spent with my lady's delightful body. That person would be fit only for the life of a sack hermit.

Sam has the most beautiful breasts.

Bigger than you'd think to look at her.

I mean I know that she looks like she's got some good ones but they're even a bit bigger than that up close. And firm, because they've got that good muscle behind them. I mean I know mine are a lot smaller than hers but still; mine feel softer to me too. Mine are like little water balloons full of pudding and hers are like, not birthday balloons certainly, they're not that big.

I don't know. I can't answer your boob questions right now.

I was busy raining kisses down all over my beautiful girlfriend's fantastic womanly breasts. With their faint dusting of freckles, every one of which I wished to kiss. And her small fat cork nipples that I wanted to stopper my puckered lips with.

My fingers stroking her fuzz as I kissed, licked and sucked at her breasts and nipples.

She hadn't trimmed in the two weeks since we had talked about her growing her hair out for me to see what it looked like.

It had only been two weeks so there wasn't enough difference yet to really notice much. It was still a topic of conversation. I hadn't fully come out that I wanted her to go wild and free. and she hadn't said that she wanted no longer than a brush cut.

We were experimenting. We didn't know what we preferred. I knew that I wanted to see what it would look like and she indulged me.

But I didn't want her to be uncomfortable.

I'd do anything for her, but it would be harder than heck if she asked me to do the same thing.

The same little bit dirty and animalistic that made it a turn on to me. That made me fantasize about broaching the subject of 'just seeing' what her armpits looked like just trimmed, then not trimmed.

Then maybe even her legs. Although those I didn't care about. They were just legs and not specifically sexy like bush and armpits.

But anyway that same rough barbarian vibe that made me wet thinking about her doing it, made my blood go cold thinking about me doing it.

Luckily she not only never asked, she seemed unlikely ever to.

She even shaved me once in the shower and that seemed to be something she could enjoy doing occasionally. Which pointed even more to her wanting to keep me smooth.

I also think it might make a difference if her hair was dark and noticeable like mine. But hers was blonde, fine, and cute. Normally it was practically invisible. So it could be felt much more than seen and there was something sexy about that.

I slid the edge of my finger against her wet slit starting to open her, moving up to her clit. I wanted to turn her on. Maybe not make her come yet, but if she did that was frantabulous too. It's just I was doing something now and there was a bit more kissing to do before I went south and I didn't want too much cum on my hand that could be in my tummy.

That did remind me, I really needed to be kissed and kissed properly. I moved up and attacked my lovers mouth. "Mmmm, your mouth tastes great." I said. Banana and oranges. "Take my face in your hands," I said. "Please" I finished.

She did, of course. She took my face in her hands and kissed me like I had always dreamed of being kissed. Her hands held my cheeks as she kissed my lips thoroughly, her tongue exploring my mouth. Slipping hotly over my own tongue, hungrily rubbing on it.

We kissed like that for minutes. Then as her hands slid back into my hair our twining tongues became even more sensual, sexual. We were eating out each others mouths and we knew it. Just as we had Frenched each others pussies.

I for one liked this about our lovemaking. And yes I did insist on calling it lovemaking, thank you very much.

I enjoyed this aspect of our lovemaking, as I was saying. This fact that I had kissed my lady's cunt and eaten out my lady's mouth and I knew the difference. And I bet not only every lesbian who walked the earth but every woman and a fair few men knew the difference just as well.

I also have finger fucked my lady's mouth before. When my fingers were particularly gooey and I was feeling particularly dirty and that was sexy as hell too. So there!

Plus, you don't even know what they were gooey with. Maybe it was butt cum. Maybe it was only raspberry jam. Maybe it was both. Maybe it was during a food game I haven't even shared with you.

Sorry that was very rude. Under Sam's bad influence, it would appear I am becoming rather nasty when I'm horny.

Of course now I'm even more horny from talking to you about it.

"You are so fuckin' beautiful." I said. " I love you so much."

"Mmmm, Kitty's got a dirty mouth on her today." Sam said.

"Not as dirty as I'd like it to be. Why don't you come here and use it as your cumrag." I groan-snarled. Then I laughed. "Where'd that come from?  
That was good. That was hot. And true as toast. Come here Sammy. Come use my tongue as your cumrag. Fill my mouth."  
I started licking down her body. "Well I'll just come there. It's faster."

Gods damn it to heck she smelled amazing and her lips were already darker and thick, she was so turned on.

But I wanted to suck them til they were fat and purple with heat. I wanted to lick and suck at her til she was full and thick and raw with need.  
I wanted to make her look like I felt.

But most of all I wanted to draw her lust out so I could sate it.

I kissed her slick elastic lips, then sucked them into my mouth. Filling myself with her delicate intimate flesh.  
tasting her pulling them with the strong suction of my playful hunger. Wetting them so generously with my tongue that as I pulled back they slid from my mouth. Overly moist, but that was my intent, for I saw their sloppy spittiness to be sexy as I played with them with my fingers  
as I stretched them open and licked deeper.

It was a game, a hungry horny devil's game, but a game nonetheless. Trying playfully, joyfully, to make my sweet love cum and lick it from her;  
sweetly, lovingly, hungrily.

Because that's what she brought out in me again and again. This hunger along with this drive to be both loving and dirty.  
To always call it lovemaking while also talking about fingerfucking her mouth with hands gooey with butt cum.

Because there was no denying this was truly my fairy tale and I was her princess.  
But it was every bit as true that I was her greedy gluttonous slut kitten and this was a story too decadent for even the porniest pornos.

Because wherever the magic of true love goes, can raunchy fuckity fucks ever be far behind?

I think not. And while I was thinking not I was licking out my Sammy-lamb. My truest of true loves. My one true Sam.

Shall I compare her to a summer's day?

Of course not I was busy licking her pussy.

Kissing and stroking. Moving my fingers in and out. Licking them to savor the deliciousness they had transfered from her folds and crannies. Sucking on her pert pink button making it purple and rise as it hardened.

Licking around it and over it then trapping it between my pursed lips and sucking it earnestly again. Searching my fingers within her. Stimulating all the nerves within her scrumptious funbox. Playing with fingers hooked against the roof of it. Stimulating the inner forks of her clit and her urethral sponge. Moving my fingers along the floor of her, rubbing all those delightful nerves between front and back funholes. Putting my middle and index fingers in; one hand in each hole and using these two most talented digits to pleasure her on both sides in tandem as my tongue visted back and forth licking around the fingers and between the fingers. Moving back to her clit with my mouth and moving back to her nipples.

Kissing all over her soft muscular tummy tum. Kissing her tummy button and then a line of kisses back to join my busy hands in their play.

To say she came would be obvious. What else would she be doing? Knitting? Homework? Alphabetizing meat?

But I will tell you how she came. She had loud powerful orgasms where her juices came to me in a rush, a pulse of passion.  
She had soft tender orgasms that sounded almost like weeping.  
She had full throated orgasms that sounded more like roaring.

I cannot say which order they came in, or even which was first or last.

I could tell you how proud it made me to make my lover cum so hard. Or even how humble it made me, because I know this wasn't me that did this to her.

I was only touching her, only kissing her. It was our love that filled her with these feelings. It was our love that made me cum simply from the sound of her, from the flavor of my lady.

Not big, earth shattering, roaring ones I admit.  
But I know what an orgasm feels like and I had more than one as I feasted.  
How could I not? How could I not be transported with delight when such a goddess was at my fingertips and at my lips?

It was magic, pure and simple. Every moment.

After we'd smooshed and smooched a bit and Sam had recovered the power of speech she said, "That was incredible, my pet."

"Yummy scrumbos and scrummy yummbos." I said.

"Yeah," Sam said, "Yummy bumholes, that's all you care about."

"Shut up, you." I fired right back. "Or you're going to remind me I didn't get nearly enough butt yumminess today and I'll have my tongue up your rump til dinner. Then nobody goes to Der Bacon Streudel."

"C'mon kittengirl, that sounds fantastic, but my bottom will still be there when we get home." Sam said.

"I know. It's just every inch of you is so damn delectable. Truly you are magnificent, Sam sweetie. You really are.  
And so fucking beautiful I want to claw my own eyes out so I don't have to look at all the crap in the world that isn't you.  
But sadly then I wouldn't be able to look at you either, so I have to suffer through." I started to get up.  
"Now c'mon, be a smurf and help me get my table set up."

I had a portable massage table under my bed that I kept meaning to set up for Sam's massages. But I hadn't until now.  
I had to get serious though. Or Sam was going to continue to view this as an option, when it was a priority to me.

It was a strong but lightweight aluminum frame table with pink vinyl over a polyester foam core. It actually was almost as comfortable as a futon and my friend Tori had slept on it when I lived at my parents house. One time when she and Jade both spent the night and only Jade would fit in my bed. I doubled up on the bottom sheet like I always did. otherwise the cold of the vinyl leaked through.

I started Sam on her stomach. Starting with the backs of her calves and a firm pressure. Carrying that on when I took it down to her feet. I always gave everyone a lot of pressure on their feet, as I've mentioned. It is the best way to head off tickling situations and since they are used to bearing the person's entire weight stamping around all day, they usually only notice a firm pressure.

So it was back of the calf, sole of the foot. Up around entire calf. Down around entire foot. Up to knee. Bend the knee. Move the leg out. Massage along the outside of the leg. Move the leg in. With the knee bent, rotate the lower part of the leg a quarter turn in each direction to massage the hip joint as I massage the upper leg with the other hand.

Thoroughly do knee, then simple connecting strokes down leg to bring around to other leg where I repeated it through to that knee. Then up to the thigh of the second leg. Simple connecting strokes to tie the whole of the legs together and do the first thigh. Just enough on her lady business that it feels included.

Then her glutes. Do her glutes thoroughly, as they are a major muscle group before moving up to backs of the hips and then lower back. Starting first standing near the hip and moving in strokes that work upward and eventually working my way around until I am standing over her head facing her bottom moving in smooth long strokes down her back rocking her hipbones and loosening the tension in her spine.

I had been using quite firm pressure on the thick muscle, but here closer to bone and especially when my hands are positioned near her spine, I am holding off on the pressure a lot and just using enough to move and position the muscles. Then I moved up to her shoulderblades working my fingers underneath them as I lifted and manipulated her arms.

Sam moaned as she relaxed and I asked if the pressure was good. Then asked if there was anything she'd like me to be doing differently. Since I knew she didn't have the experience as a client to even know what she liked or wanted let alone what might help her body we did a fair amount of: 'Better like this, or better like this?'

Which was fine with me, anything to be touching her.

To be doing something I knew was to her benefit was just glitter on the valentine.

Not the Cat Valentine. 'glitter on the valentine' is a saying like it's all just 'cheese on the potato'. I do like to have glitter on me though. Just in case you are taking notes.

So after I loosened her shoulders up, I continued down her arms. Then bent her arms and worked back along her triceps. Up her forearm, did her hand. Pulled her folded arm up and around to start working in her chest. As my other hand was starting on her clavicle on that side. Then I did the same on the other side.

Now that I was back on her back, I swept the blades of my forearms up and down.

Up with the right arm, down with the left on the right side and then reverse it on the left. My feet shoulder width apart, leaning into the strokes, rocking on my hips, trying to keep the strokes as long as possible.

Long strokes to cover her back and tie it all together. Then I broke it down into doing strokes to her outer thigh, inner thigh, along her torso. Moving back to her bum.

Before I flipped her over, my final stop on the back was a complete massage of her undercarriage.

What I didn't mention when discussing the set up of my table. Before I lay Sam down on her tummy I have placed a massage wedge underneath her hips. This takes the weight off her hips, making her more comfortable. It also cants her hips at an angle so her entire funzone is on display and within easy access for me. This made my job easier certainly. But also was more fun for her. I wouldn't have to re-position her or dig around at all to get things done. She was comfortable and accessible. Not to mention in very good hands. I started on her bottom, only because that was uppermost with her on her tummy.

With my hands slick with coconut oil, I started with my fingertips at the crown of her crack. Massaging around the hole but not in and moving down the sides of her slit. Massaging the external muscles and flesh.

Not even moving onto her labia yet, although I certainly would.

This was just working my fingertips into all that support zone area. All the parts that are so near and yet so far. That only got reflected attention from proximity to the good stuff when I was down there and everything got all caught up together.

Well this was some time to single out those adjacent areas that I might normally gloss over. This would be a thorough going over like accupressure or reflexology for the area, from about an inch above her tailbone to her pubic bone. I was working it over with my finger tips in little one inch squares.

Walking my fingertips over it. Pressing. Doing crossfiber movements to release tension and soften the skin. Then when I had massaged the entire area, I took my slick oiled palm and covered her actual vagina. Palming and beginning to massage her labia.

Massaging in and around. Tapping the entire flat of both my hands lightly around this area those around it, extending up over her glutes and down her inner thighs.

Then coming back up, to massage with both hands working together.

Pressing down along the seam of her, spreading her lovely lips out flat and massaging along the insides with my thumbs. Turning my hands so all four finger tips of each hand are aligned along the base of each side inside her but not deep inside. This is still external massage in the strictest sense of the word.

There can be no doubt that her treasure is spread open and displayed but not overspread, not uncomfortable.

I am lovingly caring for this gift Sam has shared with me, even if I am doing it in an unusual way.

I take my two index fingers, as they are closest, and use them to begin to massage her clit as the other fingers continue with labia and vulva duty.

My lady is breathing heavily and moaning occasionally by now. And I am making my own pleasure noises with the enjoyment of what I'm doing.

Then I move my left hand flat against her. Pressing firmly in, my fingertips still on her clit and my right hand smoothing and massaging her lips against the surface of my other hand.

Then placing my right hand flat on her tailbone and inserting my middle and index fingers of my left hand together. I move them all around the entire vaginal barrel massaging the inner walls. Another quick tour around the external areas I'd spent so much time on in the beginning to tie it all together spreading out into long strokes involving the entire back before turning her over.

I reached under the sheet to pull the wedge down when she flipped, so it would now be under her knees, supporting them.

There are plenty in the massage community who would take issue with me kissing her when I had her turn over.

Even though she is my lady love. Even with this sort of already sensual massage. They would say that boundaries in massage must always be sacrosanct, because it is so intimate. They would say if you'll kiss your lover, then those ideas will come into your head with a client, and it's just better to never do that.

Not to mention not having that energy on the table.

The fact that I'm mentioning it means I've internalized some of that stuff. But I will say two things:

First I have made it clear in our talks how truly madly deeply I love this woman and I had to kiss her. To not kiss her would be morally wrong and I am of the highest moral character.

Secondly, I only have eyes for Sam. I have never sexually desired anyone before her. And will never desire anyone besides her.  
Not to say I haven't wanted to kiss people because I have wanted to and I have done it.  
But at that point kissing didn't mean what it means to me now. They were just people I liked or thought were pretty.  
Thinking someone is aesthetically attractive does not make you want to kiss them on a massage table.  
So I will never have a client where that's a problem.

There is a third which is I don't do this professionally and never will. But I do like to do it with a professional demeanor so that is a gray area.

After I kissed her, (and this wasn't a full on make out just a quick, but unhurried acknowledgement of my love for my beautiful lady). I moved up to the head of the table and slid my hands down to her shoulderblades, drawing them back up beside her spine. Sliding back down and making my hands into fists that I stood underneath her, letting her own weight push them into the muscle bundle at the base of her neck.

I moved on to her breasts beginning with the muscles that anchored them to her chest at the top and massaging down and around. Always moving carefully to relax the skin without stretching the skin.

Also, as always, touching with a taking touch. Feeling every inch of Sam. Enjoying her. Stirring the energy in her flesh. Awakening the life within her blood and bone and muscle. Communicating with her flesh to flesh. Exactly as I did when I had sex with her. Although this was a different conversation.

I moved down along her belly. doing the front of her hips and her stomach. I moved down her leg, bending her knee and bringing it up to her stomach. Then over to the side.

I brought her legs together and bent both of them bringing both knees to her stomach. Both knees to the right. Both knee to the left. I flattened her left leg out again and brought the bent right leg over, torquing that hip slightly. I then did the same movements in reverse order on the other side.

I then moved on to her adorable little piggies. Massaging each of her toesies in turn. Many of them cracked or popped as I stretched and rotated them on their little joints.

I moved up to her arms and hands, again taking my time and working them minutely like the feet because they are just as important and packed with nerve endings. The hands even more important. Hands face and sexy place are if not the most important areas of this or any massage they are certainly the areas I work in minute and tiny detail (along with the feet but that didn't work into the rhyme scheme a second ago) making sure every inch has been gone over in at least three different directions with at least three different types of strokes.

The whole teaching of Reflexology is that the hands and feet contain maps with corresponding points to the entire body and accupressure as well has many meridians ending in the extremities.

I finished with a few more more full body strokes. If we weren't going directly to the shower I probably would have led things south again but we could play in the rain instead.

When we were under the hot spray I took a moment to kiss Sam like I hadn't kissed her on the table.

Wet and messy and porny with my arms and legs wrapped around her and her holding me up.  
When she realized I wasn't getting down right away, she leaned me against the wall and we slobbered on each other for a few minutes.  
It was fun. You can't always kiss nice. Sometimes you have to kiss dirty, even a little gross.  
It keeps the horny juices flowing.

"Was that massage better Momma?" I asked.

"Yeah it was good, I think the hurting me helped keep my brain occupied." Sam said. "I mean, not that you,"

"I know." I interrupted. "But with that really deep stuff you want to drink a lot of water. Not liquid. Water. Or you could cramp up and it could even bring up bruises. And if people start to ask questions about why my woman has bruises. I'm gonna have to give you the old one-two, Sally." I said in my tough guy voice.

"I'm sorry Charlie. I'll drink my watta like you says." She replied in her 'gangster dame' voice.

"Oh Sam, you think spousal abuse is funny." I said in my best 'that silly Sam' tone.

"You started it Kitten." Sam said.

"Yeah, yeah." I said. "I'm just a well spring of wickedness and debauchery. Now can you just bend the fuck over so I can eat your ass?"

"Whoa, spicy!" Sam said, "And what brought this on?"

I ignored her just to be playful and said, "Actually, first turn the water up as hot as you can stand it,  
because the steam will keep me from getting too cold while I'm back here macking on your fuckholes.  
And the hot water beating down on your freshly massaged back will feel fantastic. And then, if you please my lady.  
If you could, as I said, bend the fuck over so I can eat your ass." I pressed up against her. "Oh did you say something my love?  
I'm just being playful Sam. Playful and dirty. But it does occur to me that while my lucky, greedy, selfish fingers  
have gotten to touch and rub and play with you. I haven't licked your sexy snackbox in like an hour, an hour and fifteen.  
And as we already talked about. I haven't gotten to lick your besty backbox very much at all today yet.  
So if you think I deserve it, if you could please turn up the shower and get comfy I would very much like to lick you out some."

Sam did as I asked and I sat behind her looking at her marvelous treats. All freshly oiled and tender.  
Mmmm smellin a little coconutty and a whole lot Sammy. I traced the edges with my tongue.  
First her pussy then her bum. Her skin was so warm and soft. So lickable and kissable.  
So I licked and I kissed. Kissing and exploring deeper and then pulling back to kiss lovingly at the surface.  
Then kiss lovingly with my tongue buried to the hilt.

Sam's hand came back between her legs, I guess she knew what she wanted.

She took my hand and separated it down the middle with her hand pressing two fingers to each hole.

When it was clear I knew what she wanted, she released that hand and held my other one tightly as she moaned and bent down still lower, relaxing onto the arm that she leaned on.

Holding my hand and pressing herself back onto my other hand and hungry exploring tongue.  
She moaned and came as I fingered and licked her and soon I was transfering her delectable juices to my greedy tongue  
as my questing digits and mouth tried to coax more from her.

Always there was more and more to be coaxed and fairly little coaxing needed.  
My lady didn't exactly have a hair trigger, but she was a lusty lass and free with her favors.  
At least where greedy lovers were concerned

Eventually it wasn't fair to ask her to stand. Nor me to quit so we just turned the shower off for a few minutes  
and she lay on her back in the tub and I finished her a final time or two in the steamy bathroom.

Then we turned the spray back on and actually bathed this time.

There was groping and goosing. Kisses and well placed fingers but it was just playful and we were able to finish and get ready for our day.

 


End file.
